It's fall now and I'm recalling something that happened this past summer.  In June 1993 my husband, myself and three others were on a boat unnamed.  We were to meet after work at Dauphin Island. Sharky, the boat Captain, arrived first, Mike and I next and then James and Jody. Everyone loaded their gear and we were off to what we thought would be a fun time of diving.

Everyone was a certified diver except myself and I wasn't diving.  James and Jody would make the the night dive, then they would relocate the boat and Mike and Sharky would team up.  There would be one thing on their minds as they descended.

Big fish and lots of them were to be seen, naturally their dive was successful, bringing up plenty of fish.  Their surface interval would soon follow.  Then came James and Jody's turn and they did O.K.

Mike and Sharky prepared for their last dive of the night.  They checked their gear and they went down under.  I watched my dive watch, being familiar with their routine on when they should return.  We had been listening to the music; a great sound system on the boat and then had requested we turn it off for safety reasons since we knew Mike and Sharky would be coming up soon.  We didn't want the music to overpower their voices and not be able to respond.

About ten minutes had passed and I was looking for dive lights and signs of my husband. Mike soon surfaced and began to struggle for air.  He handed James his tank and weight belt and appeared very uneasy.  I know my husband and he doesn't panic in the water.  I spoke quickly, "something is wrong"!  "He's just catching his breath, resting a moment" James replied.  "No, that's not like Mike" I said.  Mike's body seemed to be bouncing in the water.  I thought that James would jump overboard and pull him closer to the boat.  He didn't and thinking back, we would have had a bigger problem if he had.  James threw a rope to Mike, missing him by inches.  Mike's coordination was gone by this time.  James pulled it back and threw again.  The rope fell right in front of Mike.  Mike turned and the rope wrapped around his neck. "Oh my God, he's drowning"!, I said.  Mike somehow held onto the rope and was now back at the side of the boat.  We pulled him aboard.  Thank God Sharky was now up and unaware of any problems.  We've got to move fast, I said.  "Mike needs help".  "Radio in now and have help waiting at the dock".  Sharky, a quiet friendly man, wasted no time, he knew what was happening.  We were wide open now, headed to shore.  I put a towel behind Mike's head, water was coming in as the boat raced for help. His feet were pointed, his legs lifeless, his left arm very stiff and lifted away from his chest.  I always heard not to move an injured person, so I did not try.  I did touch his face gently because he looked as if he were frowning, his face was contorted looking.  Believing that there was a chance he could hear me I told him that I loved him; help was on the way and that he would be all right.  I poured a cap full of gatorade over his lips, hoping the liquids would help.  He would stick out his tongue to lick his lips, so I knew he had swallowed it O.K.

God's people were waiting at the dock, the Dauphin Island Rescue Team.  They examined him, and took him immediately to the air strip two miles away where a chopper would pick him up.  I rode in the front seat and remained quiet, somewhat in shock.  Soon the chopper landed for Mike.

I kissed Mike away in my mind.  His eyes were open now and he gave me a thumbs up.  He was now in flight.  I knew Mike would be at the hospital in a few minutes.  I was at least fifty minutes by car.  The EMT took me to our van so that I could drive to be with my husband.  It was midnight or so and no gas in the van and no cash, thank goodness I had a credit card.  I grabbed a candy bar as I needed something to settle my stomach.  I'm on the bridge leaving the Island, thinking, praying, driving.

I called my sister Dana on the cellular phone, and said talk me to the hospital.  Dana is a 5 foot, 2 package of love.  She was very helpful and comforting.  I needed to stop by the house for a minute since it was on the way and grab the Rolodex of phone numbers, a dry shirt and shoes; told the kids "Mike has swallowed a lot of water and was seriously ill, go to sleep and Aunt Dana will see you soon".  Off I went to the hospital.  When I arrived, Mike was in the chamber, sweating, exhausted and worried looking.

I would look at him and smile, tell him I love him and then went to the waiting room.  I did not want to excite him in any way by being in front of him too much. I didn't want him to know how scared I was.

I called everybody I could.  Family, friends and dive buddies.  Soon everyone was there, the waiting room full.  Your family is your best support group.  Everybody on the boat was now there too.  Several hours had gone by and I thought he was making some progress.  I was soon informed by the doctor that his condition was no better and perhaps worse.  The doctors advice was to seek further treatment at a chamber capable of deeper depths since this one did not have that capability.  We were to leave about 6:00 p.m.  Then around 1:00 or 2:00 they said that he must be moved now.

We are in an ambulance, now on our way to New Orleans, Louisiana.  Everybody waves us off.  Our EMT seemed to have a lot to talk about, so we listened.  We arrive at the Jo Ellen Smith Hospital, a small hospital, but the best place on earth to be if you get the bends. Mike and I had to sign a release and they began to work on him around the clock.  I was alone in a strange city, strange surroundings and very scared.  Soon my dad arrived from Mississippi to look out for me and give me support.

There were no vacancies anywhere in New Orleans and it's about 3:00 in the morning.  The doctors and technicians all seemed like family to me, concerned, trying to find my dad and me a place to rest.  The nurse allowed us to sleep in one of the rooms the doctors use.  My dad went to sleep.  I showered and then went to bed.

I believe that when you love someone, you become as one.  For about three minutes or so, I could not feel my legs, as if I had none.  Then a special feeling came over me, I felt like Angels had surrounded the hospital and God had sent them to shield us.  I fell asleep.
Early the next day, I saw Mike through a porthole in the chamber.  I talked to him over a special telephone for a few minutes and sang him a song.  I wanted him to heal in every way.  I was in love with him.  I have always loved him.  The doctors and technicians were very positive.  I knew I was among very intelligent people.  I knew Mike was in the best place.

I also knew a prayer chain was happening.  I felt the energy.  I knew Mike was going to be O.K.  I met a nice lady who was taking care of an outpatient, who became my dear friend.
Four days later, Mike walked out of the chamber, a little shaky, with the aid of a walker.
The man needed a bath.  I ask the nurse if I could bathe him.  Then we went to a room.
Mike seemed to improve every day.  The doctors said that he should never dive on SCUBA again, I agreed.

Twenty one days later, Mike was discharged.
I am thankful he received his care at Jo Ellen Smith Hospital.

I will close with the reason for titling my story "The Promise".  I asked God to give Mike the strength of a hundred men and felt in my heart that God had promised he would.  God always delivers.  Pray without ceasing.